


My Dear Watson

by Violentlydelightful



Category: Elementary (TV)
Genre: Brotp, Epistolary, Platonic Soulmates, no shipping here folks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2019-03-24 10:13:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13809051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Violentlydelightful/pseuds/Violentlydelightful
Summary: While Sherlock is in London, he writes dozens of letters to Joan, but never quite manages to send them.





	My Dear Watson

Sherlock looked balefully at the pile of used stationary. The cream paper and neat black ink seemed especially offensive today, maybe because Kitty had finally commented on it the day before.

“What’s all this?” she’d asked, nudging one of the topmost letters with a finger.

“Nothing,” he’d snapped. He usually tried to encourage her curiosity. It made for a better detective. But this was not something he was willing to share with her.

“All right then,” she said, stepping away with her hands in the air for dramatic effect.

“Now,” he said, pointing back to the stack of rocks on the other table. “What can you tell me about the murder committed with these?” Kitty had dutifully started to examine the rocks and recite off possible theories, but his mind still lingered on the letters.

 

_Dear Watson,_

_You may recall once that I told you London is always a different city. I have found this to be true again. With the assistance of my new employers, she has welcomed me with open arms._

_You should consider visiting again. It would be excellent for your continued education to try your hand at solving crimes in a city not your own._

The rest of the letter descended into a scratched out mess, as did many of the others.

 

_Dear Watson,_

_My new work has proven most invigorating. How is Clyde faring? I noticed yesterday that New York is experiencing a heat wave. I hope you have adjusted the climate in your new apartment appropriately. Tortoises such as Clyde can be very susceptible to sudden changes in temperature._

_Likewise, I can be sensitive to sudden change, as you know._

 

_Dear Watson,_

_I miss you. London is a wonderful city, but she would be a better city with you in it._

 

Some were also crumpled into an unseemly ball of paper.

_Dear Watson,_

_As you know, I am usually a quite adept correspondent, but I admit I am at a loss for what to write to you. The weather is a usual British summer- wet. My cases are matters of national security, and I have no wish to be tried as a traitor for sharing their details._

_I could write to you as I do C, but I believe that would be distasteful for both of us._

_I could write to you as I did Abigail Spencer, but I have no reason to believe you are in need of comfort, nor that I can learn the workings of a murderer’s mind from you._

_Similarly, I cannot write to you as I do Moriarty. Our correspondence is a vicious dance, an attempt to understand something fundamentally not capable of being understood._

_You, I understand well.  And you understand me well._

 

Or had clearly been crumpled and just as clearly flattened and continued later. 

_Dear Watson_

_I have given it some consideration, and it is not you that I need, but our process. I am at my best as a teacher, as I was when I taught you my methods. I have found a new protege. Unlike you, she had already taken an interest in bringing criminals to justice before I began her studies, and I anticipate that she will be a quick learner._

_I hope your search for a new apartment has gone well. New York’s real estate market is notoriously difficult to traverse in the summer. If it has not, I could arrange for you to spend some time in London._

_It would in all likelihood prove beneficial for you and my new protege, Kitty. She is hardworking and dedicated, but there are things I cannot teach her. She has been hurt- I think you could help provide her with the additional training that is outside my capacity to offer. A child always benefits from two parent figures in her life, a father and a mother._

 

The cleanest, and therefore presumably newest, attempted letter lay on top of the pile.The script was still neatly legible, but there was a halting quality to it that was missing from the others. Sherlock knew that a well trained detective like Watson would notice this and deduce accordingly.

_My Dearest Watson,_

_I have behaved cowardly, and I am ashamed of it. I cannot stand to fail in front of you, but without you in the brownstone with me, I know I will fail. If I fail in London, then at least I will be spared the shame of failing in front of you. And failed I have- MI6 fired me. Now I spend my days consulting on smaller matters, and teaching Kitty._

_She is unlike you as a young woman can be, but still every day I spend with her reminds me of you. I know sometimes I am unduly harsh with her, in large part because she is a constant reminder of the missing piece- you._

_I had once hoped to return to New York in a moment of triumph. Now I fear that I will be forced to crawl back, as a dying man does toward an oasis. And still I look forward to that day when I may hope to work with you again, no matter the cost to my pride._

_All indications to the contrary aside, I remain_

_Yours,_

_Sherlock_

  
In a single impulsive movement, Sherlock swept up all the unsent letters into his arms. The corners and crinkles poked the skin of his bare arms. He allowed himself a small moment to relish the sensation, so like another forbidden sensation. Then he used the toe of his boot to nudge open the small iron fireplace in the corner of his dark house. The fire crackled along merrily and additional warmth swept the room as the grate opened. He threw the letters into the fire with another jerky movement and stepped back to watch as the fire struggled to accommodate the new fuel. In a matter of minutes, everything he had wanted to tell Watson disappeared into ash and ember, and despite the larger fire, the room felt colder.

Sherlock straightened his shoulders, and turned back to the new list of texts he was assembling for Kitty. She had progressed to lockpicking, and he would no doubt need to provide some additional diagrams if she was going to master opening chained doors in a reasonable timeframe.


End file.
